


Of Nerds And Sci-Fi

by Namarie



Category: In Plain Sight
Genre: Comic-Con, Gen, Humor, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-28
Updated: 2011-11-28
Packaged: 2017-10-26 15:06:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/284673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Namarie/pseuds/Namarie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Albuquerque Comic Con. There's no way Marshall would miss this, and one of Mary's witnesses won't let her stay away either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Nerds And Sci-Fi

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Kaffyr for her winning help_japan bid over at LJ, as well as for the Month of Mayhem at the mary_marshall community. Kaffyr's prompts were: 1) teenage witness 2) freezer full of fish 3) local science fiction convention.
> 
> Also, thanks to Mack for the beta.

~~

“No. Absolutely not. There is no way in hell we're going to that nerd-fest.”

Marshall is not in the slightest bit surprised when Mary cuts the teenager off mid-explanation with this emphatic denial. He's not discouraged, either – and neither is Ryan.

“It's my seventeenth birthday,” Ryan reminds Mary, “and this is what I want to do.”

“Birthday or not,” Mary shoots back, “it's not a good idea. This is a convention we're talking about, and even if it's just a large gathering of geeks and nerds, it's still not exactly keeping a low profile.”

“But it's not like I've ever been to one before, so anyone would know to look for me there,” Mary's witness argues. He smiles. “And I'll be dressed up, anyway, so no one will recognize me. And you and Marshall would be there to keep a lookout, too.”

“Besides,” Ryan's sister chimes in, giving Mary an imploring look, “if you let us go, at least he'll finally shut up about it.”

Mary raises an eyebrow. “'Us'? Erin, don't tell me you're thinking about going with him?”

Erin shrugs and says, “Yeah, sure. I think it could be fun. And I think you could have fun, too, Mary.”

Marshall watches as Mary tries and fails to come up with another counterargument. She remains silent for less than half a minute before she sighs, leans back in her chair, and glares at the siblings and at Marshall. “You fight dirty, did you know that?”

Grinning, Marshall says, “Hey, I never even said a word to these guys. They came up with this nefarious plot all by themselves.” He leaves out the fact that he'd told Ryan about the convention in the first place. But that had really been all it took; and as he had expected, Mary's fondness for the duo seems to have sealed the deal.

“Uh huh.” Mary takes a deep breath. “So how long does this convention thing run, and is there anything there that won't make me want to stab out my eyes with a replica sonic screwdriver, or whatever the hell that thing is called?”

Still grinning, even more pleased at this evidence that she correctly remembered the name of the distinctive Doctor Who prop, Marshall defers to Ryan, who quickly opens his laptop and navigates to the website. “It's not all comic books and people in Star Trek uniforms, you know,” he says. “You might find something interesting in this list of celebrity guests.”

She looks highly skeptical, but she does look over Ryan's shoulder at the screen. Her expression lightens as she looks at some of the headlining guests. “Well. Not really appropriate for you or Erin, but that panel I can do.”

“Oh, I'm sure Ryan has seen _The Boondock Saints_ ,” Marshall remarks, after having looked at the screen for himself. The young man is a student of classic movies of all kinds, after all.

“I have,” Ryan confirms. “And Erin saw part of it, but--”

“Yeah, it wasn't really my thing,” Erin cuts in. “Not big on the constant swearing and violence.”

Marshall can't help smiling again. Those happen to be two of Mary's favorite things.

“Well, maybe we can go for the day when the _Boondock Saints_ panel is happening,” Mary says after a moment. “But I'm not paying for it. You can buy me a ticket.” This last comment is directed at Marshall.

“Provided you wear the appropriate attire for the convention, I accept those terms,” Marshall replies easily. Since she won't be present when he buys the tickets, he reflects, she won't be able to prevent him from buying them both a two-day pass.

“I am not wearing a costume to satisfy some sick fantasy of yours, you freak,” Mary says, ignoring the half-scandalized, half-amused expression on the faces of the Coopers.

He clears his throat. “I didn't say you had to wear a costume,” he corrects her. “But you can't just go in your everyday attire, either.” He looks to Ryan for support, and the kid nods.

Mary frowns. “So, what then?”

“You'd fit right in with your 'Everybody Lies' T-shirt.”

“Really?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Yes.” He happens to know that Mary is quite fond of that particular shirt, which he'd given her a few years ago for her birthday, and of the Houseian philosophy it espouses.

“Huh. All right.” Then she narrows her eyes. “You know, Marshall, you have this whole thing a little too well-planned for me to believe it all came from Ryan.”

Marshall just looks at her smugly. Before his partner can level any further accusations at him, he turns his attention back to her witness and his sister. “So, anything else you need before we head out? Any concerns? Do you need us to drop off some over-the-counter remedies for your aunt later?”

“No, I think she'll be all right,” Erin says.

“Okay. Call me or Marshall right away if it turns out she's not getting better,” Mary reminds her, meeting the girl's eyes and then Ryan's. Marshall knows Mary is not altogether pleased with how effective a guardian Erin and Ryan's aunt is to them, but at least the woman generally makes an effort to contact the marshals if she thinks her niece and nephew need something – and she had been willing to go into witness protection with them, after all.

“Sure thing,” Ryan says. “See you guys later.”

“And thanks for letting us go to the con, Mary,” Erin adds, with such a winning smile that Mary has to smile back, though she rolls her eyes at the same time.

“Yeah, yeah, don't thank me just yet,” Mary mutters.

~  
At home that night, after he has purchased two-day passes for himself and for Mary (it's a decent price, and he knows Erin has already used money she's saved and earned to buy the same for both her brother and herself), Marshall realizes there is a very serious issue to be dealt with before the weekend of the convention. He still has not chosen a costume idea, and therefore hasn't even started working on said costume. This can't be left until the last minute.

As he finishes up his dinner of chicken stir-fry, Marshall contemplates the merits and drawbacks of the various choices he's been considering. It doesn't take him too long to discard some ideas; he knows he can't pick anything too outlandish or Mary will refuse point blank to be seen with him. So instead of anything involving a Star Trek uniform, he muses, he'll have to go with something a little more low-key – which isn't a problem. He has several of those kinds of options from which to choose, as well.

In the end, it's a difficult decision between Captain Malcolm Reynolds, of _Firefly_ cult fame, and the Tenth Doctor, beloved of _Doctor Who_ fans everywhere. But after serious deliberation, Marshall decides to go with Mal, since the idea of walking around for an entire day (at least) with his hair gelled to look like Ten does not appeal to him.

Besides, he admits to himself with amusement, he's fairly certain Mary likes Nathan Fillion more than she likes David Tennant.

~  
The month leading up to the convention passes relatively quickly, with no major witness disasters for Marshall or for Mary. In his spare time, Marshall puts together a respectable Mal costume. He does not share the details of his efforts with Mary, since she's made it clear she doesn't want to think about her attendance at the con before she has to think about it.

Stan, on the other hand, seems almost wistful when he hears about the whole thing. “I've never been to a comic convention,” he remarks in the office one day, while Mary is away from her desk getting coffee. “I wanted to go once, when Leonard Nimoy and William Shatner were headlining at a con near my hometown. But it, uh, didn't work out.”

“That's too bad,” Marshall says. “Why not?”

The chief clears his throat. “I didn't want to wear a costume, and the girl I was with at that time was ... disappointed with that fact.”

Mary, who has come back by this point, snickers at this revelation. “Gee, Stan, you should track her down and set her up with Marshall. It would probably be nerd love at first sight.”

“Hilarious,” Marshall tells her. “I'm just dying with laughter.”

Stan wisely stays out of this, though he does tell them both to stay alert at the convention even if the risk is probably not too great.

When Marshall presents Mary with her two-day pass on the eve of the con, he is a little surprised at her reaction. Instead of an irate comment or a demand that he return it, she just sighs and says, “Really? You really think this is something I can enjoy enough to go for two days? Because you know if I get bored, I'll--”

“--Make sure there's no possible way I'll enjoy my experience, I know,” Marshall finishes. He pushes the printed out copy of her pass into her hands. “You'll have fun, Mer. And if by some small chance you end up hating it, I promise I'll figure out a way to make sure you don't have to suffer through a whole two days of it.”

“You'd better.” But she gives him a small smile as she says it. Then she cocks her head. “By the way, what are you going as? You aren't just going to wear one of your nerdy T-shirts, are you?”

“Nope.” He grins. “Let's just say I aim to misbehave.”

Mary narrows her eyes, but it's clear that she hasn't quite gotten the reference. “Okay. Whatever.”

As they exit the Sunshine Building, Marshall asks, “So, just to be sure, tell me again what our cover story is for accompanying the Coopers?”

She sighs. “It's really not that complicated. Ryan and Erin are my cousins, and you're my coworker who's such a gigantic geek that his life would be forever ruined if he didn't go with us to the convention.” He can hear the glee in her voice at this description, but it doesn't bother him. “And you know my 'cousins' pretty well, too, so you don't have to pretend like you don't.”

“All right.” He pats her arm and adds, “And see, you just demonstrated one thing you'll love about this weekend already.”

“I'm almost afraid to ask,” Mary mutters, raising an eyebrow.

“You get to feel superior to all of us geeks the whole time.”

She thinks about it for a moment and then smiles. “I guess that's true, isn't it?”

“Just try to be superior quietly,” he advises. “If you get us thrown out, Erin and her brother will never forgive you.”

“Yeah, sure,” she agrees – all too quickly, to his mind. “So, you can pick me up tomorrow after you get the Coopers.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He can't help grinning again as he looks ahead to the events of the morrow ... and even Mary muttering something about being surrounded by nerds does nothing to dampen his excitement.

~

Marshall is awakened by his alarm early enough the following morning that he has plenty of time to make the finishing touches to his costume, as he planned. He's already been in touch with convention security and the people in charge (giving them only a limited amount of information, of course), and he's secured permission to carry a real weapon. They have asked him to keep it out of sight, however, so the gun in his holster is fake. It does, however, resemble Mal's sidearm as closely as possible. He elects not to put on the all-important brown coat until they've arrived at the convention center – he doesn't want it to get wrinkled or anything, after all.

Marshall grabs a quick breakfast of coffee and pastries for himself and for the rest of the party. Ryan and Erin are ready to go when he arrives at their house; Ryan is wearing a simple but effective Green Hornet costume, and Erin, with wry humor, has agreed to be his Kato.

“Nicely done,” Marshall says as they exit their aunt's house. “In fact, it's a shame we all probably should say no if anyone asks to take our picture, because you're definitely both picture-worthy.”

“Thanks, Marshall,” Erin says with a smile.

“Yeah, and as long as we can get some pictures for ourselves, I won't mind,” Ryan adds. “It would seem like wasted effort if we didn't get any.”

“I'm sure we can make time for a less public photo session,” Marshall assures them.

As she gets into the back of the SUV, Erin tells Marshall, “Love your Mal costume, by the way. Might even go so far as to call it shiny.”

Marshall bows. “ _Xiexie_ , Kato.”

Erin giggles.

When he pulls up in front of Mary's house, Marshall is pleased to see that Mary is waiting for them already. She's wearing a jacket, but it looks like she has her “Everybody Lies” T-shirt on under it. She doesn't exactly look excited, he observes. At least it's past nine o'clock, so she won't have to complain about how early it is.

“Hey,” Mary greets him as she climbs into the passenger's seat. She takes her coffee and pastry without really looking at him, but after she has buckled her seatbelt, she turns and gives him a closer look. “Huh. I guess I can handle being seen with you in that getup.”

“Thank you. You're so gracious.”

Mary looks in the rear-view mirror and then turns around to the back seat. “You guys look good. Who are you supposed to be?”

“The Green Hornet and Kato,” Ryan answers, gesturing to himself and his sister in turn. “So you didn't even see the movie, Mary?”

Mary just shrugs. Around a mouthful of croissant, she says, “Not a fan of comic book movies, unless they have Robert Downey, Jr. in them.”

Marshall decides not to mention that the Green Hornet was actually originally a character created for a radio program. Ryan, on the other hand, tries to convince Mary of all she's missing out on if she skips non-RDJ comic book movies entirely. Marshall catches Erin's eye in the rear-view mirror, and they both shake their heads; the young woman has learned in the months that she's known Mary that it's not worth it to try to change her mind about most things.

Thankfully, the drive to the convention center is not too long, although despite their punctual arrival time, it takes more than a few minutes to find decent parking. Mary almost takes out her frustration on some of the other drivers in her usual colorful terminology – but she remembers the minors in the car just in time and tones it down a little.

Marshall can hardly contain his glee when they are finally approaching the entrance to the convention center. He puts his long brown coat on quickly but with care, and is rewarded almost immediately when a few other con attendees turn to stare and whisper, “It's Mal!”

Mary, noticing this, elbows him in the ribs. “Don't let all the attention go to your head, Captain Tightpants.”

Ignoring the muffled laughter of Erin and Ryan a few steps behind them, Marshall keeps walking. Once again, Mary has proved that she's absorbed more than just shallow observations of the handsomeness of Nathan Fillion – she has actually remembered a line from the show. Thus, Marshall concludes that his work in getting her to watch has not been for nothing.

Once inside the building, having waited in line for half an hour to exchange their tickets for official Comic Con badges, Marshall's glee has not been dampened in the slightest. Unsurprisingly though, Mary's patience is running thin.

“Who knew there were this many geeks in the Albuquerque area?” she mutters, directing a glare that could kill at an unfortunate con attendee in a black robe who's trying to slip in line ahead of them. “Hey, don't even think about it, Obi-Wan.”

The Sith in question, whose red and black face paint and spines clearly identify him as Darth Maul, looks both offended and intimidated. “Hey, I--”

“Sorry about my cousin,” Ryan says, quickly stepping in and giving Mary a look. “She's only here because she has to be, but she wasn't trying to insult your costume.”

Darth Maul looks at Ryan and his sister, then at Marshall, and then back at Mary – who's still not exactly making nice, but is at least not saying anything further. He shrugs. “All right, apology accepted. By the way, I'm not really cutting in line - my brother was saving me a spot.”

“Sure,” Mary says, radiating skepticism.

Thankfully, the day improves from there. The first major event is a James Marsters panel. Marshall is somewhat torn in allowing the Coopers to attend, since they have not finished watching _Angel_ yet and he hates to think of them getting spoiled for major plot points, but the two of them tell him not to worry.

“Yeah, relax, Marshall,” Mary says as they settle into their seats (they arrived at the room early enough that they're fairly near the stage, though not as near as the group of women of a variety of ages that Marshall guesses could be accurately termed fangirls). “Not everyone is as anal about staying spoiler-free as you are.”

“True,” Marshall concedes. “And not everyone is as utterly averse to any kind of surprises as you are, either.”

Mary just shrugs. “Well, I'm definitely not averse to seeing this guy in person.”

Erin adds her heartfelt agreement, and Marshall and Ryan exchange indulgent glances.

Once the panel starts, Marshall concedes readily that James Marsters is at least as charismatic as his renowned vampire character Spike. He also agrees with Ryan's whispered comment that it's weird to hear the man speak in his natural American accent after watching so many seasons of him as the English-accented Spike.

After the _Boondock Saints_ panel – which is full of profanity and amusing stories from behind the scenes, and threatens to go much longer than its allotted hour – the four take a break to wander around the exhibition hall before lunch.

“So,” Marshall drawls as they pass several independent comic book artists' booths, “how is it so far, Mary? From the simple fact that you haven't been complaining non-stop, I'm gathering that you don't hate it.”

Mary pauses in her examination of a toy sonic screwdriver at another booth. “Yeah, I don't hate it so far,” she replies. Then she narrows her eyes, pointing the implement at him in a would-be threatening manner. “But I'm still not convinced this trend will continue.”

“Oh my gosh, look at this!” Erin squeals before Marshall can reply. She rushes over to the other side of this particular booth, pointing at the long, multicolored knitted scarf hanging on the corner of a shelf.

“Awesome!” Ryan says, joining his sister. He looks at the price tag. “Too bad it's a little out of our price range, though.”

Mary takes a look for herself, raising her eyebrows when she sees the three-digit number. “Jesus! What, is it made of angora yarn or something? Is there even such thing?”

Marshall opens his mouth to reply to the latter question, but Mary meets his eye and shakes her head. “Never mind, don't care.”

“Well, you have to take into consideration how long it must have taken to make,” Erin says.

“Yeah – parts _and_ labor,” Ryan puts in.

“I guess,” Mary says. She doesn't look convinced.

They wander around the exhibition floor for a while before taking a lunch break. Marshall and the Coopers are keeping careful track of time, since the next panel of interest starts at noon. Meanwhile, Marshall is just happy that Mary seems relaxed. No doubt it helps for her to see how happy her witness and his sister are. It wasn't too long ago, after all, that both of these kids were still too deeply scarred by what they had been through for them to express much interest in anything outside their family.

“So, anyone ask for a picture with you yet?” Mary asks suddenly, while Ryan and Erin are deep in conversation about what should happen next in the new season of _Doctor Who_.

Marshall blinks. “Not as of yet, no.”

“You gonna stand in line to get any autographs?”

“Not unless Ryan or Erin want to,” he replies. “Maybe tomorrow, though, since Bruce Boxleitner is going to be here.”

Predictably enough, her next question is, “Who?”

“You don't know anything he's been in,” Marshall says with a small smile. He hasn't tried to get her into _Tron_ or _Babylon 5_ , guessing either one would be too cheesy for her tastes. She barely tolerates _Doctor Who_ , after all.

“And there's no hope of me convincing you that standing in line and paying twenty or thirty bucks to get someone to sign a piece of paper is dumb, right?”

Marshall stares at her. “Oh, come on. You mean you wouldn't pay for a personalized autograph from, say, Robert Downey, Jr.?”

“Maybe if he signed my--”

Marshall cuts her off with a sharp look over the Coopers' heads, where a man is walking very purposefully toward their table, reaching for something in a bag at his side.

Ryan catches the marshals' sudden shift in mood. “What? What is it?” His voice has more than a slight edge of panic to it, and he turns to look behind himself quickly.

“Try to stay calm,” Mary says in a low voice. Her hand is moving slowly toward where her weapon is no doubt concealed. “It could be nothing.”

Erin looks at Mary and then at Marshall, her eyes wide. “But how did--”

“Hey!” the man shouts from behind them. He breaks into a wide smile, and then continues past their table, pulling out a rolled-up poster from inside his bag. “Jerry, I found the poster you wanted.”

At the table next to them, Jerry stands up eagerly and says, “Fantastic! Let me see it.”

Marshall exhales slowly, laying his hands on the table. “False alarm.”

“Sorry, guys,” Mary says. She looks at each of the teenagers in turn.

Ryan takes a shaky breath. “It's all right.”

Erin says nothing. Instead, she picks up her plate and silently walks to the nearest garbage can.

“She going to be all right?” Marshall asks her brother in an undertone.

“I think so,” he replies, though he looks worried. “Just give her a minute.”

After Erin returns to the table, Mary stands up. “Well. Never thought I'd say this, but after that excitement, I'm actually looking forward to whatever is next on the agenda.” She clears her throat. “Depending on what that is, of course.”

There's a moment of silence, and then Erin manages a smile. “It's a panel with Robert Downey, Jr., Hugh Jackman, and that cute guy who played Cyclops.”

Mary's eyes widen for a second, and then she groans. “Hey, I am not that gullible, okay?”

Erin and her brother crack up, and Marshall grins, even as he dodges a punch.

“Sorry, Mary,” Erin says, although she looks anything but sorry.

 

~

Although the next panel does not feature the superhero actors of Mary's dreams, Marshall is certainly thrilled to spend an hour or so with the hilarious – if rather eccentric – Jonathan Frakes, of _Star Trek: The Next Generation_ fame. Mary has only seen a few dozen episodes of the show (she continually protests that he's trying to turn her into just as much of a geek as he is when he suggests watching more of it). Still, Marshall thinks it would be impossible not to laugh at Frakes' stories of the on- and off-set hijinks between his fellow cast members, bizarre things fans have done, and even a scarily accurate impression of Patrick Stewart. Erin and her brother only look away from the stage to share their merriment with each other and with the two marshals.

Mary guffaws more than once, as well. In fact, the two of them share a look before almost doubling over with laughter when Frakes recounts the story of a fan who had stood in line for an autograph, and when he reached the front, he had asked him to sign every single one of the rainbow trout he had brought with him in a rather large basket.

Marshall is positive that Mary, too, is remembering one of his early witnesses, a young man who had called Marshall and Mary in a panic, telling them it was an emergency. When they had arrived, it had been to find that the witness' freezer had stopped working, and he was hoping that the marshals would help him cook all of the fish that he and his friends had caught that would otherwise go bad. Needless to say, neither Mary nor Marshall had been very inclined to be sympathetic – and this witness had gone down in WITSEC history.

As the room empties of Trekkies after Jonathan Frakes' panel, Mary stands up and stretches. Then she takes a look at her three companions. “Hey, Ryan.”

The kid looks up at her through his Green Hornet mask. “What?”

“Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” he says with a big smile. “And thanks, again, for letting Erin and me come here.”

“Yeah, you're welcome, I guess,” she replies. “So far it doesn't suck nearly as much as I thought it would.” Then she points her finger at Ryan, Erin, and Marshall in turn. “But that doesn't mean this is going to be an annual thing, so don't even think it.”

Marshall just looks at the Coopers. After a second, they all break out into identical evil grins.

“What?” Mary raises her eyebrows. “Oh, sweet Jesus. There's no escape for me, is there?”

“You know, you're the one who brought up the possibility of making this a tradition,” Marshall points out. “Perhaps that's an indication that you secretly love sci-fi, just as much as any of us do.”

“I'd have to agree,” Erin says as she gets to her feet. “Just accept it, Mary. You're a geek.”

Throwing up her hands, Mary continues her protests. “No. I do not secretly love science fiction, okay? I just play along for the sake of the happiness of my 'cousins' – and my nerd partner. That's all.”

Marshall shakes his head. “Methinks the lady--”

“If you finish that quote,” Mary warns, “I will steal some fat kid's plastic lightsaber and smack you in the face with it.”

“All right, fine.” Marshall doesn't even try to hide his smugness. “Geek.”

~


End file.
